


Don't Apologize

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Aragorn finds Legolas wandering alone and injured in the woods close to Imladris. His friend has obviously been hurt, but Legolas refuses to tell him what happened. It soon becomes apparent that the prince's physical injuries are the least of his worries. Aragorn is in a race against time to save his friend's fading soul. OOC Legolas. Trigger warnings for rape and panic attacks.





	Don't Apologize

Chapter 1  
Aragorn

Aragorn jumped and spun around as a hand descended onto his shoulder.   
“You seem in a hurry, Estel.”  
“Yes, Ada. I have to go. Legolas is in trouble.”  
“How do you know that?”  
He’d already tried to explain this to his brothers, and failed. Aragorn shrugged helplessly. “I just know. I can feel it.”  
To his surprise, Elrond nodded. “It seems you have a touch of foresight. I, too, feel that Legolas is in danger. Do you know which direction?”  
“No, but I know he’s due in Imladris soon – maybe he decided to come early. I’m going to follow the route from here to Greenwood; hopefully I’ll find him somewhere along the way.”  
“I agree. I will give it five days, and if you haven’t returned, I will come and find you.”  
Aragorn frowned worriedly. Things must be worse than he thought if Ada was going to come after him. Usually, he sent the twins or Glorfindel, but rarely left Imladris himself, except in the most dire of circumstances. His influence with Vilya was needed in the valley to keep Imladris safe. “I’d better hurry, then.”  
“Yes, go, Estel. I pray we are wrong about this.”  
Changing his plans slightly, Aragorn took three horses, so that he could rotate them and make better time. He couldn’t travel as quickly as he’d have liked, having to slow a certain amount to look for signs of Legolas. It seemed the Valar were with him, because two days into his journey, he stumbled upon his friend’s tracks.   
He’d recognize them anywhere, and it was clear by Legolas’ heavy tread that he was injured. The tracks veered away from Imladris, wandering around as if lost, though the prince knew this area almost as well as the Greenwood, having spent so much time at Imladris that it was a second home to him.   
Finally, Aragorn saw a glimpse of blond hair. “Legolas?” he called. There was no response, but the figure continued to stagger away from him. On horseback, he quickly caught up, and leapt to the ground.  
“Legolas!” He ran to the elf, who was covered in blood and looked on the verge of collapse.   
Before he could get close, Legolas cried out and sprang back, bringing his hands up in an attempt to shield his face.   
“Mellon nin, it is Estel, do not fear.”  
Legolas blinked slowly, seeming to bring him into focus. “E-Estel?”  
“I am here, gwador. What happened to you?”  
Legolas went even paler than he already was and shook his head vigorously. Aragorn sighed. The prince never would admit to his own injuries, even when it was glaringly obvious that he was hurt.   
He hurried forward, intending to catch his friend before he fell, but Legolas once more jumped back.  
“Legolas? You have to let me tend to your injuries. You’re covered in blood – even you can’t expect me to believe you’re fine this time.”  
Legolas was taking deep, shaky breaths, as though to calm himself. Why was he so panicked?  
“Are there enemies in the area?” Aragorn guessed.  
“N-No, I don’t think so…”  
Confused, Aragorn approached the elf, more slowly this time. Legolas stiffened, and stumbled out of reach when the human got close. He was unsteady on his feet, though, and tripped. Aragorn lunged and managed to catch him before he hit the ground, but Legolas’ reaction took him completely off guard.  
The prince cried out in fear and struggled fiercely, unknowingly elbowing Aragorn hard in the jaw in his desperate struggle to escape. Momentarily stunned, Aragorn felt his friend slither out of his grasp. When his senses returned, he saw Legolas huddled with his back against a nearby tree, his eyes wide and his whole body trembling.  
Aragorn was deeply concerned. He had never seen the prince act like this. “What happened to you?” he murmured. This only served to make the elf paler, so he tried another tactic. “Please, let me help you.”  
“Don’t touch me,” Legolas whispered. “Please.”  
A horrible suspicion started welling up in the human’s mind. Please, let it not be. His eyes were drawn to Legolas’ pants, but the prince’s clothes were all so soaked in blood, it was impossible to tell where the injuries originated from.  
“Where are you hurt, mellon nin?”  
When Legolas just flinched at the question, it only served to add credence to Aragorn’s worst fears. If the prince had indeed been raped, as he now suspected, the prognosis wasn’t good. Elves didn’t recover well from such violations. The fact that Legolas was still alive was already unusual. Whether or not he stayed so…  
Forcing himself to put his anguish aside, Aragorn focused on how to help his friend. “Alright, I won’t touch you, not if you don’t want me to, but your injuries still have to be tended. How about you show me where you’re hurt, and I tell you how to treat it? I have the necessary things here.”  
Legolas shook his head frantically, and Aragorn was sure his friend didn’t want him to know what had happened. He didn’t know what to do or how to help the prince. “Saes, mellon nin,” he begged, feeling close to tears. “How am I to help you? You have to let me try. Saes.”  
Instead of answering, Legolas dropped his head to rest on his knees. By the way his body was shaking, Aragorn realized he was crying. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever seen the prince cry before.   
He hesitantly went to sit beside his friend, being careful not to touch him. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. He wanted to comfort Legolas, but he didn’t know how, not when he couldn’t touch him, not when the prince had been through something Aragorn couldn’t even begin to fathom.  
Legolas’ sobs increased, his face still hidden in his knees.   
“Oh mellon nin, I am so sorry for what they did to you,” he whispered. Aragorn’s hand hovered inches away from the prince’s shoulder, itching to embrace him. “Can I… can I put my arms around you?”  
After a long pause, without lifting his head from his knees, Legolas nodded. Moving slowly so as not to scare him, Aragorn gently pulled his friend into an embrace. At first, Legolas stiffened, and Aragorn rubbed his back lightly, trying to help him relax.  
“If you want me to let go, you have only to say so,” he assured the scared elf. “I will not touch you if you don’t want me to. You know I’d never hurt you.”  
Legolas moved suddenly, throwing his arms around Aragorn’s waist, burying his face in the man’s stomach, sobbing so hard that he was sending tremors through both of their bodies.   
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aragorn whispered, rocking his friend slowly. “I’m here now, I’m going to take care of you. No one will hurt you again, I promise.”  
“Y-You – don’t – k-know what – they – d-did to – me,” Legolas gasped between sobs.   
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Aragorn said gently. “Was it men or orcs?”  
“M-Men,” Legolas gasped. “Five – five of them. For days. I e-escaped – but didn’t – think – would m-make – it…”  
It was worse than he’d thought. “I will kill them,” Aragorn said fiercely. “They will pay for what they’ve done for you.”  
Legolas didn’t reply, but his grip on the man’s waist tightened. Revenge would have to wait. Right now, Legolas needed him. Aragorn was concerned by the elf’s pallor, and by the growing wetness on his own tunic and pants, Legolas was still bleeding from somewhere.   
Deciding that comfort was more important than treatment for now, he continued to hush and rock the elf, until Legolas’ weeping finally slowed, though didn’t stop entirely.  
“I’m sorry, mellon nin, but you are injured badly. Please, we have to treat these wounds.”  
Legolas once more stiffened in his grip.   
“It is just me,” Aragorn soothed. “I have seen your body a hundred times. Think nothing of it, gwador. You know I am a healer. I have patched you up many times before; this is no different.”  
Slowly, Legolas nodded. Sighing in relief, Aragorn unthinkingly pressed a kiss to the prince’s brow. Legolas gasped and jerked back, causing the man to curse himself for his thoughtlessness. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled.  
“Not your fault,” Legolas breathed. “It’s stupid. I know you won’t hurt me.”   
“It’s understandable. I will try to be more careful. Now come, let’s get this tunic off so I can see your wounds.”  
He knew that the worst of the injuries wouldn’t be under the tunic, but Aragorn thought it best to start here and work his way to the more serious wounds. Legolas took a deep breath and closed his eyes, nodding for Aragorn to continue.   
Aragorn had barely lifted the bottom of the tunic up an inch before Legolas was once more crying out and skittering away. He made further noises of pain as his abrupt movement wrenched his injuries. He was once more shaking, his eyes far away.  
“No… please, no more…” he mumbled. “Not again…”  
“Mellon nin, snap out of it! You are here with me, no one is hurting you.” Aragorn moved as close to Legolas as he could get without touching him. “Legolas!”  
At his shout, Legolas’ eyes finally focused on him. “Estel?”  
“I am here, gwador. You were lost in a memory.”  
Legolas nodded and the two of them sat in silence for several minutes, while Aragorn waited for his friend’s shaking to slow. When it did, he hesitantly brought up the issue at hand. “I still have to treat your wounds. I’m sorry, mellon nin, I wish it wasn’t necessary, but you are bleeding and your body is in a bad way.”  
“I know,” Legolas whispered. “I just can’t… I don’t want you to see me like this. See me broken and violated. See how…”  
“How what? How what, Legolas?”  
“How disgusting I really am.”  
Aragorn’s heart broke at these words. “You are far from disgusting. Do not even think that, please.”  
Legolas nodded, but Aragorn could tell the elf didn’t believe him. He didn’t like the dullness in his friend’s usually bright eyes. How long could he survive this wound to his soul? Aragorn certainly didn’t know how to treat it. He had to deal with Legolas’ injuries and get him back to Imladris as soon as possible if there was to be any chance for his survival.  
“Don’t you at least want to wash?” he tried desperately. “There’s a river nearby.”  
Legolas’ eyes lit up slightly at this, but he bit his lip, glancing sidelong at the man.   
“I won’t watch, if you don’t want me to. I can leave the herbs for you, to treat your own injuries as best you can.” The words cost him to say, because Aragorn knew it was dangerous to let Legolas’ wounds go uncared for.   
The elf had only a basic knowledge of herbs, and Aragorn didn’t think that in this state of mind, the prince was up to handling wounds that were no doubt infected from days of wandering around, filthy, in the forest. Still, if having them cleaned was the best he could do, then he’d take it, for now.  
“You… you promise?”  
He hated the uncertainty in his friend’s voice. “Of course I promise. If you let me help you to the river, I will make camp out of sight, but close enough to hear if you call for me. Alright?”  
“Alright,” Legolas said quietly.   
Getting his friend to the river was more complicated than he’d anticipated. Legolas was too weak to walk, and sitting on a horse pained him to the point of nearly passing out, no doubt due to his internal injuries. Aragorn tried carrying him, but Legolas couldn’t tolerate this for more than a few seconds before falling into a blind panic, and most often injuring them both further in his wild attempts to get away.  
Aragorn felt like crying in frustration. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t know how to deal with this. “Look, let me give you herbs to put you to sleep,” he tried. “I can wash you and care for your wounds that way. You won’t feel a thing.”  
Legolas was already shaking his head. “No sleep. No, no, no, don’t touch me!”  
“Alright, alright, I’m here, you are safe,” Aragorn said quickly, trying to stop his friend from falling into yet another memory. “I’ll figure this out, just give me a minute…”  
He was sure that his presence wasn’t the most helpful in this situation, either. He may be Legolas’ best friend, but if men had done this to the prince, he may be better off in the care of other elves. Aragorn was the only one here, though, so he’d have to make do.  
“I’ve got it. Hang on a minute.” He got out his bedroll and spread it on his cloak, laying them both on the ground. “Lie down on here. I’ll pull you to the river.”  
This seemed to work well. In the short time it took them to get to the river, Legolas’ eyelids were already drooping, a testament to how exhausted he was, given that elves usually slept with their eyes open. The prince shook himself several times, clearly determined to stay awake.  
When they got to the river, Aragorn hesitated. Legolas looked on the verge of passing out. His friend could drown and he’d never know about it.  
“I’m going to call out to you once every minute, to check that you’re still conscious. If you don’t reply, I’m coming to rescue you, so make sure you respond, ok?”  
“Ok,” Legolas said softly, taking the soap Aragorn handed him. It was against his instinct to leave his friend alone, but Aragorn forced himself to do as he’d promised and started setting up camp, calling for Legolas every minute as he’d said he would.  
To his relief, the prince managed to bathe and dress in the clean clothes Aragorn had left for him without mishap. He was quiet as the man pulled him back to camp on the cloak. Legolas accepted the food Aragorn handed him and picked at it unenthusiastically, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.   
“Do you want to talk about it, mellon nin? It might help.”  
Legolas’ flinch was expected, but Aragorn still hated to see it. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to forget it ever happened.”  
That wasn’t going to happen, but there would be no persuading the prince of this tonight. When Legolas had eaten as much as he was apparently going to, Aragorn put his plate away and urged the elf into his own bedroll. Legolas seemed to have lost all of his possessions, and usually when the two of them had only one bedroll, they would share. This obviously wasn’t an option right now, so Aragorn simply moved himself closer to the fire, hoping the night wouldn’t be too cold.  
“Estel, you need your bedroll. I don’t feel the cold as badly as you do.”  
“You are injured and need to recover. I will be fine for one night.”  
“Take the bedroll, you stubborn human. I won’t sleep anyway.”  
“Oh yes you will! You have to sleep, your body needs it to recover.”  
“No.” Legolas once more looked scared, and Aragorn tempered his fierce tone.   
“Why not, mellon nin?”  
“I’m afraid I’ll wake up and think I’m back with them,” Legolas breathed, suddenly trembling again.   
“I understand, gwador, but you still have to sleep. I will be here to remind you that you are safe. You don’t need to worry.”  
Legolas once more shook his head. Aragorn sighed. Usually, he would have no hesitation forcing sleeping herbs on his stubborn friend, but not this time. Forcing anything on Legolas would only deepen his trauma, so Aragorn could do little but watch the prince suffer. He knew the elf would fall asleep on his own eventually; the ragged edge of exhaustion in his movements was only too clear.  
“Alright, well how about you just lie quietly and rest? If you won’t sleep, your body can at least use some relaxation time to recharge.”  
Had he been in a better mental state, Legolas never would have fallen for it, but now, he simply nodded. Aragorn positioned himself carefully so that if Legolas moved, he’d bump into the man and wake him. He watched the prince fight his weary eyes. It didn’t take long. Soon, the elf slipped into a fitful sleep. 

   
Chapter 2  
Aragorn

Aragorn awoke to the sound of Legolas screaming. Without thinking, he rushed to comfort his friend, trying to gather the elf into his arms.  
That just made it worse. Legolas became even more panicked, and lunged away to escape before Aragorn could stop him. Unfortunately, his unseeing movement deposited the elf into the fire. Of course, he had to fish his friend out of the fire, no matter how much the prince didn’t want to be touched. Aragorn deposited him back on his bedroll and quickly moved back.  
“Legolas, calm, mellon nin. Everything is alright. I’m sorry I had to touch you, but you were in the fire, gwador.” He eyed the burns on Legolas’ forearms, wondering if the prince would let him treat them.   
“No, leave me alone!” Legolas’ eyes were still wild, and Aragorn knew that his friend wasn’t seeing him, but his captors.   
He moved further away, holding his hands out warily. “I won’t touch you, mellon nin. Listen to my voice. You are safe, with me. Come back to me.”  
Legolas covered his face with his burned arms, mumbling words Aragorn couldn’t catch. He kept talking to the elf in a soothing voice, hoping he would get through to him.   
Finally, a shaky voice asked, “Estel?”  
“I am here,” he breathed. “You are safe.”  
Legolas refused to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I woke and I thought I was back with them. Then I felt arms around me…”  
Aragorn cursed himself for his foolish reaction. “I’m so sorry, mellon nin. I heard you scream and I reacted automatically. I should never have touched you like that.”  
“No, it is my fault. I should know better. Of course, you would never hurt me. It’s just… being touched, it makes me remember.” Legolas hung his head in shame.   
“Do not worry over it. You were confused and afraid. Will… will you let me treat your arms?”  
The prince glanced down at his arms, seeming to notice the burns for the first time.   
“I wouldn’t have to take your tunic off, so much as peel off the parts that have become attached to the skin. It would simply be a short-sleeved tunic, that’s all. I’ll try to touch you as little as possible.”  
“Of course.” Legolas’ jaw was tight, a sure sign that he was more anxious than he was letting on, but he held out his arms placidly. Aragorn got a small metal instrument out of his healing bag, ready to pull away the burned fabric.   
“This is going to hurt. You should take some herbs for the pain –”  
“No herbs!”  
“Not ones to put you to sleep, just ones to help dull the ache…”  
“No. I won’t take them, please don’t make me, Estel.”  
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you, but I’d like to know why, if you can tell me.”  
Legolas appeared to think about it. “I don’t want anything that will make changes in my body, without me being able to control it.”  
He supposed he could understand that. “Ok, but at least bite down on something. As I said, this is going to hurt.”  
Though he barely touched the elf, the majority of their contact being Aragorn’s medical instrument, he had to stop twice to talk Legolas out of a panic before he’d fully cleaned and dressed the burns. By the time they were done, he was exhausted, though not as much as his friend.   
The rest didn’t seem to have done Legolas much good, and the prince slumped back down on the bedroll, but kept his eyes wide open. Aragorn lay down facing him, leaving a foot of space between them.   
Legolas brought his tortured eyes up to the man’s. “I don’t think I can do this, Estel,” he whispered.  
“Do what, mellon nin?”  
“Keep going.”  
Aragorn bit back his questions and let the elf talk.  
“It would be so easy to let go. Such a relief, really. I could just let my grief take me. My soul already cries out for it. What is there to stay for, really? No one would ever want me after this…”  
“I want you,” Aragorn said fiercely. “I will always want you, mellon nin, as will your father and mine, as will the twins. We all love you, no matter what has happened to you.”  
Silent tears were starting to track down Legolas’ face. “I don’t want to…” he mumbled. “It’s too hard.”  
“What… what has kept you going this long?” Aragorn asked hesitantly.   
“You don’t remember the promise we made?”  
Of course. Legolas always kept his promises, even in circumstances such as this. “That we’d never leave each other alone, should there be any other choice.”  
“That’s why. I meant it, mellon nin. I do not want to leave you, no matter how much suffering I have to endure.”  
Aragorn was suddenly filled with guilt. Legolas had been through so much already, and now he was continuing his agony on his friend’s behalf. “Thank you.” Sincerity shone through in his voice as he met his friend’s gaze. “Thank you for staying, for trying. It means everything to me, I hope you know that… but I will not keep you against your will.”   
He swallowed the wail of anguish fighting to get out of his throat. “Promise me you’ll try, try to let me help you, let Ada and all of the other people who love you. If you do, and it doesn’t help, and you still can’t bear it… I’ll release you from your vow.”  
Legolas nodded. “Thank you, Estel,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. He pressed his head into the bedroll, his weeping picking up in intensity. “It hurts,” he moaned, and Aragorn knew that his friend was speaking about more than the physical pain.  
He caught himself in time, before he moved to touch the prince. “Can I hold you?”  
In answer, Legolas held out his arms, his expression pleading and somehow very childlike in this moment. Aragorn moved slowly so as not to startle him, gathering the distraught elf into his arms. Legolas cried desperately into his shoulder, clinging to the man’s tunic.   
“Three of – them w-would hold – me d-down,” he choked out between sobs. “One for – m-my arms – and one f-for each of – of my l-legs, holding them – ap-apart. It t-took three – at the b-beginning – when I s-struggled. When I was w-weaker – I c-could – be s-subdued by – by one alone. Some - sometimes – one w-would thrust – into m-my mouth – w-while the other – took m-me – from b-behind. They h-held – my j-jaw so that I – I – couldn’t b-bite. C-couldn’t d-do anything…”  
Aragorn realized he was unconsciously tightening hold on the prince, and quickly loosened it again. He clenched his jaw shut and forced himself to stroke Legolas’ hair. There would be time for his rage at the humans another time. Time for their slow, slow deaths later. Now, he could only hold his friend.   
“I know, mellon nin, I know,” he murmured as Legolas cried, wishing he could do more to console him, but there was no consoling this kind of pain, only witnessing it.  
Legolas looked up at him with plaintive, pleading eyes. “They h-hurt me – Estel. I c-couldn’t – s-stop them.”  
“I know you couldn’t. It was not your fault, I promise you. I do not think any less of you for it. You have no reason to be ashamed.”  
The prince nodded, tucking his head once more into the man’s shoulder, renewing the wetness on Aragorn’s tunic. A keening wail came from the elf’s throat, a sound so heartbreaking that Aragorn thought the stars themselves might weep.   
“I’m here, I’m here,” he murmured quietly. “You’re safe.”  
Legolas clung tightly to him, as though Aragorn was a rock in a raging river about to pull him over a cliff. Such fear and pain laid bare was heart-wrenching, and Aragorn found himself wiping away tears of his own even as he tried to comfort his shaking friend.   
He carded his fingers through the Legolas’ hair, something the prince had always liked, and spoke gently to him, giving what words of comfort he could, small though they seemed. He couldn’t tell if his assurances were making a difference at first, but gradually, after hours, Legolas started to calm.  
His distress was still palpable, but some of the tension started leaving his muscles and he no longer clung as desperately to Aragorn as he had in the beginning. Very slowly, he began to relax in his friend’s embrace.   
Aragorn knew the moment it happened. Legolas stiffened in his arms and started to pull back. Ready for it, Aragorn immediately let go and rolled away, putting several feet of distance between them.   
“No, let go,” Legolas gasped, his eyes distant, even as Aragorn rolled to a stop.   
“You are ok, mellon nin, no one is touching you. Hear me, hear my voice. You are safe.”  
It seemed he’d acted in time, because Legolas’ arms flailed around for a moment, searching for an attacker. When he found nothing but the bedroll, his eyes cleared and snapped to Aragorn’s, following the sound of his voice.  
Legolas’ face crumpled. “I’m sorry!” he wailed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One moment I’m begging you to hold me, and the next I feel their hands on me…”  
“There’s nothing wrong with you, mellon nin. Memories will come back like that, at unexpected times. It happens with all traumas. Please believe me, you are doing very well, considering everything you’ve gone through.” Now if only the prince would let Aragorn treat his wounds, but he decided not to bring that up right now. Legolas was looking beyond frazzled, as though one wrong breath might shatter him.  
“I –” Legolas choked on another sob, and Aragorn had to restrain himself from bounding back over to comfort his friend, knowing that wouldn’t help right now.   
“Just try to relax,” he soothed. “I’m going to get us back to Imladris. Ada will help you. No, I won’t tell him what happened,” he assured, correctly reading the sudden panic in Legolas’ eyes.   
“He’ll know. He always knows.”  
“Yes,” Aragorn admitted. “But it is just Ada, mellon nin. You know you can trust him. He will not think any less of you, I promise.”  
“He won’t look at me like I’m… dirty? Spoiled?”  
“He won’t, I swear it.” Legolas should have known this just as surely as Aragorn did, but it was clear that his recent trauma was causing him to question everything. “Trust me, mellon nin? It will be fine. Ada loves you like a son. Nothing can change that. Not this, not anything. Let him help you.”  
“I’ll – I’ll try. But Estel, how are we going to get there? I don’t know how far I can walk, and I don’t know how much time I have.”  
Aragorn’s heart filled with ice. How long before Legolas could no longer resist his wounded spirit’s urge to flee this world? He was right, they couldn’t afford to walk back to Imladris, but Legolas couldn’t ride, and wouldn’t take sleeping herbs…  
He couldn’t pull the elf all the way to Imladris on his cloak – it would wear through and the rough ground would quickly start injuring his friend.   
“I’ve got it! I’ll make a litter. There are enough branches around here, and I have rope. I can put you on the litter and have one of the horses drag it. All you need to do is keep breathing.”  
Legolas winced. “I’ll try.”  
Not wanting to waste a moment more, Aragorn hurried to get together everything he’d need, though he was careful never to stray far from Legolas.  
It was a good thing, too, because he’d only collected half of the branches needed when a terrified cry had him sprinting back to their campsite.  
Legolas was cowering away from invisible attackers, his legs curled tightly beneath him. “Estel! ESTEL!”  
“I am here, mellon nin, I am here.” He quickly knelt down in front of Legolas, wondering if touching him now would make things better or worse. “Open your eyes, gwador.”  
Legolas peeked through his scrunched eyelids, and his face filled with relief. “You were gone,” he cried. “I – I panicked. I’m sorry…”  
“Do not apologize. I should have stayed closer. May I hold you?”  
Legolas nodded, but flinched the moment Aragorn touched him. “Alright, not right now, then,” he said quickly, pulling back. “Hey, it’s alright. Here, take this.” He watched as Legolas wrapped the spare blanket around his shoulders, still shaking.   
“I’m sorry,” the elf mumbled. “Thought I could. I wanted you to hold me – but then –”  
“You don’t need to explain, and for the last time, stop apologizing, mellon nin.” Aragorn gave him a teasing smile. “I’m going to have to start extracting payment for every apology I hear from you.”  
“Payment?”  
“Shall we say one bottle of your father’s wine for each one I catch?”  
“Estel! Ada would kill me for taking his wine. It’s the best in the land; he does not give it out easily, and he certainly does not take well to it being stolen, least of all by his own son.”  
“Then I suppose you’d better stop apologizing for things that need no apology.”  
A smile tugged at Legolas’ lips. It was a small one, but it was beautiful to see. “I’ll try.”  
   
Chapter 3  
Legolas

“No, please,” Legolas whispered. His defiant and angry demands had long ago faded. Now, all he could do was beg for it to stop. It never did, no matter how he struggled.  
“Shut up, you,” a harsh voice snarled. Legolas felt his trembling legs being pulled apart. Even that small movement caused pain to lance up inside him, but he knew much worse was to come. As the foul man pushed into him, Legolas screamed.  
Someone was holding him down, and he thrashed desperately, trying to escape the violation.   
“Legolas, mellon nin! Stop it, you’re hurting yourself.”  
He couldn’t focus on anything but the hands on him. After a moment, they disappeared, and Legolas gasped, scrambling backwards, crying out as the abrupt movement tore at his injuries. His vision cleared, and he saw Estel’s scared face several feet away from him.   
Legolas didn’t speak, but tried to get his panic under control. He was safe here, with Estel. It had just been a nightmare.   
“Don’t move your arm,” Estel warned. “You were thrashing so badly you dislocated your shoulder. That’s why I tried to hold you; I didn’t know what else to do.”  
Legolas nodded, still trying to shake the memory. Now that Estel mentioned it, his shoulder was throbbing badly, which it hadn’t been before.  
“Speak to me, Legolas.”  
Legolas opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a ragged sob. He hated the pain he saw on Estel’s face. It couldn’t be fun for Estel, watching his best friend in the world fall apart so thoroughly. He wished he could be stronger.   
“Can I hold you?”  
Legolas shook his head, unable to speak. It was a confusing sensation, both longing for Estel’s comfort and fearing it. He didn’t understand why sometimes, he couldn’t tolerate even the mildest touch, and others, it was all that kept him going.   
“At least let me pull your shoulder back into place. I don’t have to touch you – here, wrap this around your wrist.”  
He did as he was told, clutching the sleeve of a spare tunic, while Estel held the other end. He didn’t wrap it around his wrist as Estel had suggested; the last thing Legolas needed was another round of memories to come back, these of being bound by his wrists.  
“I’m ready.” Legolas gritted his teeth, bracing for the pain.   
Estel gave no warning, yanking sharply. A small cry escaped the prince, but it certainly felt better to have his shoulder back in place.   
“Can I… will you let me treat your other injuries?”  
Legolas flinched. He knew he was being illogical, that he should let Estel see. He just couldn’t bear it. Having his friend see what the men had done would only make it more real to him. Worse, Legolas knew he needed a healer. He could tell that some of his wounds were infected – the stab wound in his thigh and the deep slash on his side.   
“I – I can’t,” he whispered.   
Estel closed his eyes for a moment before composing his expression, hiding the anguish there. “Alright. We’re close to Imladris. It’s nearly dawn, we may as well pack up camp now. We’ll make it there tomorrow.”  
The thought brought Legolas no comfort. He knew that lord Elrond would not be dissuaded from healing him, no matter what Legolas’ objections were. He dreaded the encounter more than he’d ever dreaded anything in his life, except when he was waiting for the men to come and violate him again.   
Once or twice, he considered running, leaving Estel and everyone behind. It would be a relief, in one way, to have no one near him, no one wanting to see him or touch him or hear about what had happened. He couldn’t do it, though. Estel’s support was the only thing sustaining him; Legolas couldn’t fathom going on without it.   
Legolas knew that if he left Estel now, his soul wouldn’t long remain in his body. He’d break his vow, whether he wanted to or not.   
“Here. Put this sling on, and wrap the blanket around yourself. I’ll make you some tea – not with medicine, just something warm. I’ll add some honey, alright?”  
Clever Estel. He was learning ways to comfort his friend without touch. “Alright.” Legolas put on the sling and huddled into the blanket while Estel bustled around, making tea. When he was done, he sat down close to the prince, still not touching him.   
Slowly, evaluating every moment whether he could handle it, Legolas leaned so that his arm was touching his friend’s. He sighed and rested his head on Estel’s shoulder.   
“Can I put my arm around you?”  
“Yes.”  
Estel’s constant checking whether it was alright to touch him before doing it made Legolas feel safe, and he relaxed into the embrace.   
“Estel, can you do something for me?”  
“Anything, mellon nin.”  
“When we get to Imladris, I need you to protect me from your father.”  
“Ada would never hurt you. You know that, gwador.”  
“He’ll treat me whether I want it or not. He’ll touch me, Estel, restrain me if he has to. Please, I can’t… not again…”  
Legolas broke off, trying his best not to start crying once more. He hated crying, and he’d done far too much of it in recent times.  
“I’ll talk to him,” Estel promised. “He won’t want to make your trauma worse any more than I do. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to take care of you.”  
Estel watched sternly as Legolas picked at his food. When he’d finally eaten enough to satisfy the healer, Legolas let his friend help him to the litter and lay down, ready for another day’s travel.   
He did his best to keep his eyes open. He knew sleep brought nightmares. He was so tired, but sleep wasn’t worth the horror that came with it.   
Legolas must have dozed off, because he jerked awake with a cry on his lips. The litter stopped moving at once, and Estel was beside him.   
“Mellon nin?”  
“It’s nothing,” Legolas gasped, reaching for Estel’s hand, wanting to assure himself that his friend was real. “Just drifted off.”  
Estel nodded, squeezing his hand. “We’re nearly there – we’re just in the tree line, a few more minutes and the path will open up to Imladris. Can I touch your forehead?”  
“Yes,” Legolas replied without thinking, and immediately regretted it.  
“You have a fever.” Estel removed his hand, frowning. “Some of your wounds are probably infected. Are you ok to continue? Ada will want to see you as soon as possible.”  
“You’re right about that. What happened to you, Legolas?”  
Legolas cried out in fright and lurched away at the new voice. It took him a moment to realize that it was Elrond speaking. The elf lord was quickly dismounting from a horse packed with travel supplies and coming over. Legolas could see it in his eyes, Elrond was going to touch him. Panic rose inside him, and he whimpered. “Estel,” he begged weakly.  
It seemed Estel understood. He got up and headed Elrond off, blocking his path to the prince. “Ada, don’t touch him.”  
“I have to touch him, he’s badly injured, ion nin.”  
“No, Ada, seriously, don’t touch him. Trust me.”  
It seemed Elrond did trust his son, because he nodded. “Come, let us get him to the healing ward. Why is he not riding?”  
“He can’t,” Estel said shortly.   
It was cowardly, he knew, but Legolas closed his eyes, letting Estel deal with this. It was just too overwhelming right now.  
They were at Imladris too soon for Legolas’ liking. He blinked, and Estel and Elrond were advancing on him again.   
“No, Ada, don’t touch him. We’ll carry him on the litter. Just touch the poles.”  
Elrond was looking more concerned by the moment, but he obeyed the instruction without question. They brought the litter to the healing ward and perched it on the side of a bed.  
“Legolas?” Estel drew his gaze. “Can I help you onto the bed?”  
“Yes.” The answer was a mistake. No sooner had Estel’s gentle hands settled on his hips than Legolas panicked, bombarded by images of other hands on him, hands that were not at all gentle. He was vaguely aware of yelling and struggling.   
“Back, get back, Ada. Mellon nin, you’re alright, you’re safe. We won’t touch you.”  
He blinked, to see Estel urging Elrond further away from the bed.  
“I’m sorry,” Legolas whispered.  
“We’re up to five now. Your father is really going to kill you… and the hangover is probably going to kill me.”  
Elrond didn’t question the inside joke, but he watched carefully as Legolas managed to move himself onto the bed, though not without what felt like tearing his insides even further. He could see in the elf lord’s eyes that he was putting it together.   
Estel pulled up a chair next to the bed, and Elrond followed his example.   
“Legolas, what happened to you?” he asked gently.  
Legolas flinched and didn’t answer. He couldn’t say it. His face was burning with shame. Some warrior he was, unable to fight off a mere five human men. It didn’t matter that they’d surprised him. He should have been stronger.  
Estel shook his head sharply at Elrond, closing the subject. “He’s got injuries, but he won’t let me see to them, or take any herbs. Touching him… it doesn’t go well. You’ll just make things worse if you force him.”  
The man stared at his father, silently begging him to find a solution. Elrond sighed sadly and turned to the prince.  
“Legolas, you have to let us treat you,” he said firmly. “I’m sure you know by now that some of your wounds are infected. We cannot let it go on.”  
“I can’t.” The feeble protest was stupid and foolish, he knew, but he still couldn’t bear the thought of hands on him.  
Elrond’s face softened in sympathy. “I know, penneth. I’m going to help you. Will you let me?”  
Legolas found himself nodding, soothed by the healer’s familiar but firm manner. “How?”  
“I’m going to take you through a visualization, one you will use many times in the coming months. It will take you away from your place of pain and fear, sending you somewhere peaceful and safe. While I do this, Estel is going to treat your injuries.”  
He felt tears springing to his eyes. “Please, don’t touch me.”  
“If at any time you ask us to stop, we will, do not worry. At least let us try.”  
He didn’t want to, but he’d promised Estel he’d try. “Alright.”  
“Good. Estel, get everything ready. Legolas, I don’t want you to pay any attention to Estel. Close your eyes, and listen to my voice.”  
The prince did it, trying to focus past the fear of what Estel was going to do.   
“I want you to envision your mind as a dark room, with many doors. Each door is made of a different material. Some are locked, others have ornate handles with jewels in them. Some are simple wooden doors. There is one door in particular that calls to you. Can you see it?”  
Legolas nodded, concentrating hard.  
“What does it look like?”  
“It has a handle like my Ada’s study, but the door is made of wood – not wooden planks, but wood like a side of a tree. There’s a knot in the bottom right corner.”  
“Good. Now, I want you to open the door. When you do, you are enveloped by a bright, warm light. You step out onto a grassy field and breathe in the scent of flowers.”  
Legolas jumped as he felt Estel’s hands lifting his tunic. Before he could panic, Elrond’s voice was drawing him in again.   
“You are in a valley filled with plants and wildlife. You wander through it, humming softly to yourself, knowing you are safe here. Eventually, you pick a spot to rest. Can you see it?”  
“Yes,” Legolas breathed, forcing visions of a beautiful valley into his head as Estel’s expert hands prodded and poked his torso.   
“Where are you?”  
“There’s an old tree that has an overhanging branch, high enough to see the entire valley. I’m leaning my back against the trunk, looking out.”  
“Very good, penneth. Now, as you’re looking out on the valley, I want you to breathe deeply, and tell me all of the scents you smell – from the flowers to the animals to the river at the end of the valley.”  
Breathing deeply as instructed, Legolas started to tell him. It went well at first. He was able to ignore Estel, for the most part, but when the man’s hands started untying his pants, Legolas snapped back to reality.  
“Stop!” he gasped.  
Estel withdrew his hands at once.  
“Legolas, look at me. That’s right. Now, remember the valley? I want you to close your eyes and go back there. Focus, now.”  
It took great effort, but after a few minutes of coaching from Elrond, Legolas managed to put his mind back where it was supposed to be.  
He was vaguely aware of his wounds being treated with a gentle touch. It was only when Estel urged him to turn onto his belly and spread his legs that Legolas was yanked once more from the vision. “Stop.”  
Estel did, and Legolas quickly turned over again, pulling the blanket up to cover himself.  
“Maybe you would be better, Ada. It was men who… an elf might be a better choice for this.”  
Elrond must have agreed, because he and Estel swapped places. “Legolas, are you still with me? Try to go back to the valley. You were swimming in the water. Tell me what it feels like.”  
“Cold, but not in a bad way. It’s deep, and I swim along the bottom – no, don’t touch me!”  
Elrond’s hands left him immediately, but the panic was rising rapidly inside him. “Penneth, listen to me. You are alright, you are safe here.”  
He only realized he was crying when Estel’s concerned face came close to his, his friend’s hands hovering inches away. “Mellon nin, it is alright.” He turned to his father. “Ada, he’s had enough for now. He needs a break. We’ve treated all his other wounds, this one can wait.”  
“We don’t know how bad the internal damage is, Estel…”  
“Give him a bit of time.”  
Legolas was infinitely grateful when Elrond acceded to his youngest son’s wishes. He left, murmuring something about getting food. With the elf lord gone, Legolas let go of the last of the control he’d been trying to hold onto. There was no need to show Elrond how truly weak and pathetic he was. It was too late for Estel; he’d already seen. There was no point in Legolas hiding it from him. The tears started coming thick and fast, his whole body shaking with quiet sobs.   
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Estel begged.   
“I feel so unworthy… so ashamed.” Legolas wouldn’t meet his friend’s gaze, tucking his head into his pillow as he cried.   
“Why, mellon nin?”  
“You’ve seen everything. You saw what was done to me. What I let be done to me. I should have been stronger, but now I’m ruined, defiled…”  
“No, gwador, saes do not think that! You are none of those things, I promise you.”  
Legolas wanted to believe him, but his heart told him otherwise.   
“You trust me, do you not?”  
That, at least, was a question easily answered. “I trust you.”  
“Then trust me in this. I am speaking the truth. I know you feel differently right now, but you are worthy and strong, and you have done nothing to deserve this. Please, believe me.”  
“I – I –” His words were starting to choke on his sobs again, and Legolas desperately tried to get them out. He needed Estel to hold him like he had before, to whisper soothing words and say that everything was going to be ok – but he couldn’t handle the touch, not now. He didn’t know what to do.  
“Can I hold you?”  
“No,” Legolas wailed, even as he reached for Estel. It was too much to hope for that his friend understood the confusing message, but perhaps he did, because Estel’s next words brought a solution.  
“How about I sit in bed with you, but I won’t touch you. You can touch me, but I won’t do anything other than sit with you.”  
“Yes p-please,” Legolas stammered. He managed to move aside, and Estel carefully climbed into the bed, sitting while the prince was still lying down.   
The man spread his hands out along the headboard, murmuring softly. “Hold onto me, mellon nin.”  
For a few moments, Legolas shuddered, trying to get over the feeling of the contact. Eventually, his mind realized that Estel wasn’t touching him.  
Legolas threw himself onto Estel’s lap, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist. Estel didn’t move so much as an inch, but he kept talking. “That’s right, mellon nin, you’re ok. I’m here with you…”  
“I d-don’t – want any-anyone t-to – see – i-inside – m-me,” he gasped. “T-too – much –”  
“I understand, gwador, I truly do, but you are injured badly, and we have to see it to treat it. We won’t do anything against your will. You can say stop at any time, but please try to let Ada or me help you. The damage may only get worse without treatment.”  
It was too much. Legolas knew Estel was talking sense, and he could feel that he was still badly torn inside. Those rational arguments did little to ease his anguish.   
His grip on Estel’s waist was so tight that it had to be painful, but the man didn’t complain, letting Legolas cry all over him. Even though he knew he was safe, Legolas still felt like the world was crashing down around his ears.   
   
Chapter 4  
Aragorn

Aragorn didn’t think it would ever get less agonizing to watch his best friend in pain. Legolas sobbed desperately into his knees, and he wasn’t even sure if his friend could hear his words of attempted comfort.  
He was watching carefully, so he could tell when Legolas lost his grip on reality. His eyes were suddenly wide and terrified, and his whole body tensed.   
Aragorn was out of the bed before Legolas could do more than flinch. “It’s ok, mellon nin, you are here with me. Listen to my voice, Legolas. You are safe in Imladris.”  
The elf stared at him with unseeing eyes. “Please, no,” he whispered.  
“I won’t hurt you. Come back to me, gwador.” Aragorn couldn’t decide if he was making things better or worse when he touched Legolas, permission or not. The prince desperately needed the comfort, but as often as not, the contact brought back the memories.  
“Estel…”  
“I am here.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Legolas’ eyes focused on him.  
“I’m s–”  
“We’re on five already, mellon nin, I suggest you don’t add another.”  
The prince gave a shaky sigh, but didn’t smile. His whole body was still trembling, though now from wrenching sobs rather than terror. It was worse when Aragorn couldn’t hold him, but he knew better than to try that right now.  
“I’m here, mellon nin,” he soothed, pulling another blanket over the prince. “Just keep looking at me. That’s right. I’m here for you, gwador, whatever you need.”  
He slowly put his hand on the edge of the bed, and Legolas snatched it, clinging so tightly he was surely cutting off the circulation, but Aragorn didn’t protest.   
“H-hurts,” Legolas whimpered. “Please, Estel…”   
The elf’s entire body curled against the force of his misery, and Aragorn squeezed his hand back. “Tell me,” he urged.   
Legolas just shook his head, clearly not up to talking right now. If all he could do was hold his friend’s hand while he cried, then that’s what Aragorn would do, until his fingers fell off from lack of blood if necessary.   
“Legolas!”  
Aragorn spun around in time to see two twin blurs hurtling for the bedside. He wasn’t in time to get between them and Legolas. Elladan and Elrohir rushed up to the bedside, Elladan trying to pull Legolas into a hug.   
“Don’t touch him!” Aragorn yelled, just as Legolas screamed and threw himself to the side, nearly toppling off the bed. Aragorn caught him just in time and hastily pushed him back onto the bed before vaulting over it, putting himself between the twins and Legolas.  
“Get back, don’t touch him,” he repeated urgently, before turning back to the prince. “Legolas, come back to me. It is Estel, you are here with me.”  
This time, it wasn’t as easy to bring him back. Legolas thrashed and screamed so loudly it would surely bring the whole of Imladris running. “No, get away, don’t! Please, stop!”  
Elrohir made to move forward, and Aragorn shouldered him roughly away. “Don’t, El!”  
“He’s hurting himself, Estel!”  
“Trust me, touching him will just make it worse. Legolas, I am here. You’re in Imladris, remember. No one is touching you. No one is hurting you.”  
Red started seeping through the prince’s clean tunic, a clear indication that he’d torn his stitches. Aragorn swallowed his panic and tried to speak calmly. “Come back to us, mellon nin. You’re safe –”  
The doors burst open and Elrond hurried into the room. “What happened?”  
“I’m sorry, Ada!” Elladan cried. “He was distressed, I only wanted to comfort him.”  
“It’s alright, El, you couldn’t have known. All of you, move back now. Legolas, listen to me. I want you to leave the dark place in your mind and find the door that calls for you, the one made out of a tree with the handle to your Ada’s study. Go through it, and step into the light. Concentrate now, penneth, hear me. Step into the valley.”  
For several minutes, Aragorn was unsure as to whether it was working or not, but slowly, Legolas’ struggles got less, and his breathing calmed. His eyes were closed, but Aragorn could see by the furrow of his brow that he was concentrating, doing as Elrond said.  
It took a while, but eventually, Legolas seemed completely immersed in his calm place. Elrond kept talking to him, and gestured at his stomach.  
Aragorn understood, redoing the stitches and changing the tunic as gently as he could. He raised his eyebrows in question at Elrond, gesturing to Legolas’ pants, but the elf lord shook his head. He spent a few minutes bringing Legolas out of the valley, back through the room in his mind.   
When the prince finally opened his eyes, they were drawn to the twins, both of whom were looking horrified.  
“I’m sorry,” Legolas mumbled. “That was inappropriate.”  
“Do not apologize, it is me who was at fault.” Elladan moved closer to the bed, but didn’t touch him. “Legolas…” he trailed off, seeming not to know what to say. It was apparent that he had some idea of Legolas’ ailment, not that it was hard to pick up after witnessing the previous scene.  
“If there is anything you need, you have only to ask,” Elrohir finished for him.   
“Thank you.” Legolas appeared too exhausted to say anything else. Elrond gestured for the twins to move back, which they did, but they took chairs a few feet away, apparently with no intention of leaving their friend when he was in this state.  
“Penneth, I need you to listen to me,” Elrond said gently. “You are exhausted. I know you are struggling not to leave this world, but if you do not take care of yourself, the decision may not be yours to make. You have to sleep, and sleep properly.”  
“I can’t, Elrond. I have nightmares…”  
“I know, and I have been working on a solution ever since I left. I believe I can brew you a tea that will put you to sleep, and let you sleep dreamlessly.”  
Legolas was already shaking his head. “No, I don’t want it.”  
“Legolas, please just listen. You are going to fall asleep anyway, you know that – it’s already happened, and it will keep happening. It will be better if what rest you do get is without nightmares. Only then can your body truly heal.”  
The prince hung his head, his face once more filled with shame. “I know it makes sense, I just… I’m afraid. It’ll do things to my body, things I can’t control. And I’ll be vulnerable…”  
“I will watch over you,” Aragorn promised at once. “Nothing and no one will get past me.”  
That got a weak smile from the prince.  
“And I will make up an antidote to the sleeping potion,” Elrond promised. “You can have it right next to your bed. If at any point before you fall asleep you change your mind, you can take it, or if you wake up and still feel the effects.”  
Aragorn nodded encouragingly at his friend. Anything to let him sleep. It was painful watching Legolas so drawn and exhausted with no relief in sight.   
“You won’t leave?” Legolas asked him in a small voice.  
“A pack of wargs couldn’t tear me away, mellon nin. You will be safe, you have my word on that.”  
Finally, Legolas nodded his agreement. “Then I’ll try.”  
It didn’t take long for Elrond to make the sleeping potion, but in that time, Legolas deteriorated badly. He didn’t say anything, but Aragorn could tell. “Speak to me, gwador,” he all but begged. “What is it?”  
Legolas brought his tortured eyes up to meet his friend’s. “Look at me,” he whispered. “I’m broken. I can’t even sleep without help. What’s the point in continuing this? I’m already dead, or as good as. I’d be better off dead.”  
“No, that’s not true! Legolas? Legolas, look at me!”  
The prince didn’t even seem to hear him. He was becoming paler by the moment, and Aragorn started to panic. He could almost see his friend’s soul leaving his body, fleeing these shores.   
“Ada! ADA!”  
Elrond came running in, a steaming goblet in one hand. “What is it? What –” His voice cut off when he saw Legolas, apparently knowing exactly what was happening. He shoved the goblet into Aragorn’s hand and hurried to the prince.   
“Ada? Can you help him? Ada?” Aragorn had never been so terrified in his life, watching his best friend fade before his eyes.   
“Hush, ion nin, let me work,” Elrond said quietly. He placed one hand behind Legolas’ neck and the other on his chest, his eyes slipping closed. A warm light started to glow around the two of them. “Come back to us, penneth,” he murmured. “Come back to the light.”  
Several minutes passed before Legolas’ eyes snapped open. He looked at Aragorn, then at Elrond. “What did you do?” His voice sounded almost accusatory. “I was almost gone! What did you do?”  
“I brought you back.”  
Legolas glared at the elf lord. “You had no right,” he hissed.   
“I wasn’t acting on my own right, but on behalf of my son.”  
At these words, Legolas’ anger seemed to melt, and his gaze came uncertainly to Aragorn. “I’m sorry.” He bit his lip. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, Estel, it just started happening… then when I was pulled back… I…”  
Legolas looked away as tears started falling.   
“Don’t apologize, mellon nin.” Aragorn shifted his chair closer to the prince’s bedside. “I understand, I truly do.”  
Aragorn reached out hesitantly, waiting for Legolas’ nod before he closed the distance between them, cupping his friend’s cheek. “Just sleep, Legolas. You are exhausted. Things will be easier when you’ve rested.” He turned to his father. “How long will he sleep for?”  
“Probably about a day, given how exhausted he is.”  
“And when he wakes…” Aragorn trailed off, giving his father a questioning look, hoping Elrond would understand the meaning. He wanted to know if Legolas would be ok on his own for a bit. He had something he needed to do.  
Legolas’ eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”  
“Nothing,” he said quickly.  
“Estel…” The tone of warning in the prince’s voice was all too clear.  
“We have to find the men who did this to you,” he admitted. “They cannot be allowed to live.” He easily read the panic that crossed the prince’s face at his words. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the twins and Glorfindel. We won’t be in any danger.”   
“He is right, penneth,” Elrond added at Legolas’ clear distress. “I wouldn’t let them face those monsters unless I thought they would be safe.”  
“No.” Legolas’ breathing was way too fast, and Aragorn worried he’d soon pass out. “Don’t leave.”  
“Why not?” Aragorn asked gently.   
Legolas pressed his lips shut, his face once more filled with shame.   
“Why, mellon nin?” Aragorn pressed. “You can tell me. Hey, hey, try to breathe slowly, alright? Come on now, Legolas, slow it down for me.”  
It seemed that Legolas couldn’t slow down, and Elrond was suddenly there with herbs. “Open your mouth, Legolas. Take these.”  
The prince did as he was told, clearly too distressed to protest the herbs, and a few minutes later, the herbs did their job, and he was at least breathing normally, though he still wept. “You can’t leave me,” he finally said, reaching for Aragorn’s hand. “I need you.”  
“I will only be a few days; I will be back before you know it.”  
“No, Estel, please, I need you. You’re the only thing keeping me going. Without you…”  
“Oh mellon nin.” Aragorn once more cupped his friend’s cheek. “Of course I won’t leave if you need me. Glorfindel and the twins can deal with the men. I’ll stay right here.” He wanted to torture the life out of the men who had done this, but more importantly, he wanted to support Legolas, even if that meant foregoing his revenge.   
“Thank you.” Legolas’ voice broke, and he curled onto his side, shaking in utter misery.   
“Here, penneth, take this.” Elrond handed Legolas the cup, who almost choked on the sleeping concoction, but eventually managed to get it down. He glanced at the antidote Elrond had ready for him, but thankfully didn’t ask for it. It didn’t take long for the herbs to work. Aragorn held the prince’s hand until he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.   
When he was finally sure that his friend was resting, Aragorn slumped back in his chair, sighing in relief.   
“You should get some sleep, too, ion nin. You are exhausted.”  
“No, I promised I’d watch over him.”  
Elrond sighed. “Alright, but you must at least promise to rest when he wakes. You can stay here, if you insist, so that you’ll hear if he calls for you.”  
“Fine.” Aragorn wasn’t really listening. He was watching Legolas’ face carefully for any sign of distress. Thankfully, the potion seemed to be working to keep the nightmares away so far.   
Elrond squeezed his shoulder in sympathy before leaving the room.   
   
Chapter 5  
Legolas

“What else?”  
Legolas closed his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Estel.” Even though he’d barely woken up, he still felt exhausted.   
“That’s alright. You did well. We’ll continue this another time.” Estel made to put away the notebook he was writing in, but Legolas stopped him.  
“Can I see it?”  
“Of course.”  
Legolas opened the plain cover and started reading. It was in note point form, all in Estel’s messy handwriting. 

• I’m sorry – Don’t apologize, you’ll only end up owing me more wine. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. (current count: 8 9 10)  
• It was my fault – It was not your fault. You fought as hard as you could. There was nothing more you could have done. You never asked for this, and you are not to blame.  
• You all think less of me – Nothing you could ever do would make us think less of you, mellon nin. We love you, and there is no changing that.  
• I’m ashamed of what happened – It is the ones who did this to you who should be ashamed. Theirs was a great crime. That you survived it is something to be proud of.   
• I don’t deserve love anymore – There is no one more deserving of love than you, gwador. Never doubt that.

Estel was watching him anxiously. “Well? What do you think?”  
Legolas closed the book, tucking it to his chest. “It’s all true? You promise?”  
“I promise. Whenever you doubt it, read my words again, and believe them. And every time you have another thought that bothers you, we’ll write it and my response in there as well.”  
The prince wanted to believe him, but his heart was still unsure. “But…”  
“Valar, Legolas, do you need me to sign an oath in my own blood? Because I will, if that’s what it’ll take to get you to believe me.”  
“That won’t be necessary,” Legolas said quickly, eyeing Estel’s hand, which was hovering close to his dagger. He wouldn’t put it past his friend to do just that.   
Estel reached for the notebook, but Legolas kept it pressed against his chest. It was comforting, and he didn’t want to let it go.  
“You hold onto that, then, but I’ll need it back when we add more to it.”  
He was just nodding his agreement when the door opened and the twins came in, both covered in dirt and blood, but seemingly unhurt.  
Legolas reacted automatically, trying to leap up, but while his external wounds were healing, he still hadn’t been able to tolerate anyone treating the place where he’d been violated. The torn skin rasped painfully and he cried out, falling back.  
“Calm, Legolas.” Elladan hurried over. “We’re fine, everything is ok.”  
Elrohir came over to the other side of the bed. “They’re dead. They will never hurt anyone again.”  
Sweet relief filled him, almost enough to eclipse the pain. “How – how did they die?”  
The twins exchanged a look. “Blood loss,” Elladan said eventually.  
Legolas knew that there was more to the story. “What did you do to them?”  
Elrohir made to clap him on the shoulder before catching himself and drawing his hand away. “You look ill enough as it is, I’ll spare you the details. Suffice to say they regretted their vile act.”  
“Elladan, can I speak to you in the hall?” The older twin followed Estel out at his request, while Elrohir stayed with the prince. Legolas knew that Estel would want the details. By the satisfied look on Estel’s face when he returned, the men’s deaths had been gruesome. Legolas couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry.   
A thought suddenly struck him. “How do you know it was them? What if you got the wrong people?” After all, he hadn’t described his attackers, not that he’d been up to reliving the memories in order to do so.  
“We didn’t,” Elladan assured him. “We got them to confess before we hurt them. Not that it was difficult – they were quite pleased with what they did. Not for long, though.”  
Legolas nodded, kicking his blankets off. It was boiling in here, why weren’t any of the windows open?  
“Can I touch your forehead?”  
Estel’s question sent Legolas’ thoughts inward. Oh, that’s why he was so hot. He had a fever. Valar, he didn’t need Estel knowing that.  
“No.”  
The man didn’t press, but peered intently into Legolas’ eyes, then watched his chest as it rose and fell. “You have a fever. I’ll get Ada.”  
“No, I’m fine, Estel!”  
“You’re not. We need to check on your wounds.”  
He could tell that it wasn’t one of his external wounds that was infected. Legolas knew what infection felt like, and he was sure that this one was originating from his torn insides.   
Estel wouldn’t listen to his protests, and soon, Elrond was there. He sent the twins away and sat by Legolas’ bedside, ready to take him through the visualization while Estel checked his wounds.  
Legolas didn’t want to go through that for nothing, not when he knew it served no purpose. “Elrond, there’s no point. The wounds you treated are fine.”  
The meaning of his words sank in, and Estel and Elrond exchanged a worried look.   
Elrond sighed. “There is only one wound we haven’t treated, Legolas. If it is causing your fever, that means it’s infected. You have to let us look at it.”  
“I can’t.” He wished he could be stronger, but Legolas knew that the moment they started examining him, he’d panic.   
Elrond nodded sadly. “I know, penneth, and I wish we could give you more time, but this has to be tended to. I need you to give me your permission to hold you down while we do this.”  
Fear pooled in his stomach. Hold him down? No, Legolas had sworn that he’d never allow himself to be subjected to that again.   
Estel caught his attention. “It is just us, mellon nin. You can trust us. We won’t hold you down for a moment longer than necessary, I promise.”  
“I know, I just… please, Estel, don’t make me do this.”  
“If your wound was going to get better without treatment, it would have done so by now. I’m sorry, gwador, but this is unavoidable. Ada can do it, and the twins and I can hold you down. It’ll be done before you know it.”  
Legolas stared between the two of them, half-expecting them to jump on him, but Estel and Elrond waited, apparently not willing to go ahead without his permission. That alone gave him some courage. Though he knew he’d regret it later, Legolas nodded. “Do it.”  
“Penneth, understand that you will panic when we do it. I’ll give you some herbs to calm you down, but it’ll still be traumatic. You’ll yell for us to stop, but we can’t, not until we are done.”  
“I understand.” He wished his voice wasn’t shaking so badly, but that couldn’t be helped.  
“Ada, can’t you give him some herbs to put him to sleep? He doesn’t need to suffer this.”  
“No! You can’t touch me while I’m unconscious, it’ll be worse.”  
“Are you sure, Legolas?” Elrond asked. “I think that would be a better idea.”  
“No. Hold me down, but no herbs.”  
Elrond sighed and agreed, calling for the twins. He gave Legolas some herbs to chew on with the promise that they would only relax him, not put him to sleep.  
He’d seldom seen Elladan and Elrohir looking so grave. They didn’t speak when they came in, but waited for Elrond’s lead.   
“Lie down on your stomach, penneth, and close your eyes. Go into the room in your mind…”  
The familiar visualization was comforting, and Legolas almost didn’t notice as Elrond took off his pants, the elf lord’s hands barely touching him.   
Then, he was gripped by three sets of hands, one holding both of his wrists, and one held each of his legs. The hands were gentle but firm, and Legolas was ripped out of his vision, hurtling straight into memories.  
“Stop, leave me!” he cried.   
“Legolas, mellon nin, it is just us. We will not hurt you.”  
“Penneth, listen to me, recapture the vision… Legolas… It is not working, let’s just get this done as quickly as possible.”  
He was only vaguely aware of the voices speaking in Sindarin. The harsh voices of men talking Westeron drew his attention. Legolas’ legs were pulled open, and he felt something pressing into him. The pain almost made him black out, and he wished it had.  
Legolas screamed and writhed, but the hands holding him tightened their grip. They were too strong. He felt his spirit begging to leave his body, and fought against it.   
It went on forever, it seemed. When the hands finally left him, Legolas curled into a ball, ignoring how his insides hurt at the position. He realized he was crying, and hated himself for it. He didn’t want these monsters to see him cry.  
Little by little, he became aware of a familiar voice, speaking to him in Sindarin.   
“You’re ok, mellon nin, you are in Imladris. It’s all over, the men who hurt you are dead…”  
The voice kept speaking, and Legolas cautiously opened his eyes. Estel’s face was covered with tears and he was white and shaking, but he spoke steadily.   
“Legolas?” He sat up straighter when the prince met his eyes. “Are you with me?”  
“I’m – I’m w-with you.” He struggled to bring himself back to the present, but the memories washed over him mercilessly.   
“Do you remember what happened?” Estel asked gently.   
“I… you had to treat my wound.” He looked up at his friend, a question in his eyes.   
“It was infected, but with the treatment it should settle soon. I’m sorry we had to do that to you.”  
“I’m weak.” Legolas hung his head. “And irrational, and foolish. You should not be burdened with me.”  
Estel sighed and reached for the notebook on the bedside table. He wrote for a few minutes, then handed it to Legolas, who read four new points.

• I’m weak – You are one of the strongest people I know, Legolas, both physically and mentally.  
• I’m irrational – The only irrationality you’ve ever shown is your insane propensity to hide your own injuries. Other than that, no, you are not irrational.  
• I’m foolish – You are not foolish, mellon nin. You are wise and kind, and your sound advice has held me in good stead many times.  
• I’m a burden – You have never been a burden to me, nor will you. I love you, gwador, and I will always care for you. That is no burden.

Legolas felt tears in his eyes again, but he managed a weak smile. “Are you sure? You’re not just feeling sorry for me?  
Estel rolled his eyes and took the book back.

• Everyone is only helping me out of pity – This is not true. We all love you, and our love is not borne of pity. 

“I don’t know.” Legolas wanted to believe it, but his mind was whispering poisonous things to him. “I still…”  
“Right, that’s it.” Estel reached for the dagger at his belt.   
“No, Estel, don’t!”  
The stupid, stubborn human ignored him, making a small incision on his wrist.   
“Stop it, you crazy human!”  
Estel wouldn’t stop, but pressed an empty quill to the cut until instead of ink, the quill was filled with blood. He used it to write his oath on the first page of the notebook.  
Legolas, I swear on my life and everything I hold dear that every word in this book is the truth. Signed, Aragorn son of Arathron / Estel Elrondion  
He left the book open to dry, while Legolas rolled his eyes at his friend. “That wasn’t necessary.”  
“Yes, it was. Do you believe me now?”  
“Yes.” He almost surprised himself with the words, because Legolas realized they were true.   
“Can I hug you?”  
He paused, evaluating for a moment. “Yes.”  
Estel moved slowly, ready for permission to be withdrawn at any moment. Memories threatened to overwhelm the prince when Estel’s arms slowly came around him, but Legolas forcefully pushed them aside. He tucked his face into his friend’s shoulder, breathing deeply.   
Estel started rubbing his back, and after a few minutes, Legolas was able to relax into it. He used to love back rubs, and it seemed his body hadn’t quite forgotten that. The tears dried as he soaked up his friend’s comfort.   
“Thank you,” Legolas murmured.   
“For what, mellon nin?”  
“For putting up with me. For everything.”  
Estel’s grip on him tightened slightly. “I would do anything for you, gwador.”  
Legolas knew that to be true. In that moment, he promised himself that he wouldn’t ask Estel to release him from his vow. He would live, for Estel if not for himself. With time, he suspected that he would learn to live for himself again. As long as he had his friend’s support, Legolas thought that he would be ok.   
   
Epilogue  
Two years later  
Aragorn

“Hurry up, if he catches us, we’re dead!”  
“I’m not as fast as you are,” Aragorn panted, trying to keep up with Legolas.   
The prince grabbed his arm and all but dragged him along.   
“LEGOLAS! Get back here right now!” Thranduil’s enraged shout seemed to echo through the entire palace.   
Legolas blanched, and Aragorn picked up his pace. “Quickly, quickly… the trees will protect us.”  
Just as they leapt up into the trees, something fell from Legolas’ belt. They both looked down, to see a notebook lying on the forest floor.  
“Leave it, Legolas –”  
Too late, the prince was already jumping down. He never went anywhere without that notebook. Often, Aragorn would find him staring fondly at the pages, even though he hadn’t needed its reassurances in months. Legolas loved that book, and was clearly willing to risk his father’s wrath for it.  
“Legolas!” Aragorn stuck out a hand, which the prince took, allowing them both to disappear into the leafy canopy, the notebook tucked carefully back into Legolas’ belt. The afternoon was spent running from tree to tree, listening carefully for patrols. Finally, they stopped at a flet that he and Legolas had used before, but he didn’t think Thranduil knew about.  
For a few minutes, they lay flat on their backs, catching their breath.  
“I told you he’d find out,” Legolas muttered.  
“I was the one who said we shouldn’t hide the bottles in the palace!”  
“And of course, you turning up to dinner drunk had nothing to do with it.”  
“You drank as much as I did!”  
“Yes, but I can hold me liquor better than you, as I told you, Estel.”  
That much was true.   
“He’s going to kill me,” Legolas muttered under his breath. “Seriously, Estel, seventy-three bottles of his best wine? Ada has started wars over less.”  
“Hey, it’s your own fault the count was so high and you know it.”  
Legolas hung his head. “I’m s– no, you’re not getting me again! I am not sorry, you stinking human. This is all your fault!”  
Aragorn fell back onto the flet, laughing heartily. “That’s what I like to hear.”  
He rolled closer, his hands poised. “Can I tickle you?”  
“Fine, but I won’t promise not to retaliate.”  
Though it had two years since the attack, and months since Legolas had flinched at his touch, Aragorn still always checked.   
There was no tension in the prince as he giggled and twisted away, making a retaliatory jab at Aragorn’s stomach. Before long, the two of them were out of breath again, and making more noise than they should have been.  
A face suddenly appeared over the edge of the flet.   
Legolas yelped. “Gilan? What are you doing here?”  
“My prince, you have to leave! Your father sent us to find you, and if he gets his hands on you now, he’ll wring your neck.”  
Legolas was up in a flash. “Thanks, Gilan, I owe you! Estel, come on.”  
With a sigh, Aragorn followed his friend into the trees. Thranduil’s rage would calm eventually, and Aragorn was reasonably sure they would be forgiven. He could hear Legolas laughing even as they ran for their lives.   
There had been times when he’d thought he’d never hear his friend’s merry laugh again.   
“Faster, slothful human!”  
Aragorn grinned as he leapt to the next branch. It was going to be an interesting few weeks in Greenwood.


End file.
